Jack and Runes
by Miss.Nix08
Summary: Val is the icy bartender that Dante just can't seem to get enough of...even though she can't stand the sight of him, but when the wrath of Mundus threatens Val's very life can she swallow her pride and let the young Nephilim be her warrior? Or is this death by hybris? ****Yes, this is reboot. Get over it ;) My skewed version of the story****DanteXOC because why not?
1. Jack and Hate

Some things to note:

1. I do this to escape reality... and I hope to help others escape reality too ;)

2. This is my therapy

3. Two story lines are congruently taking place. Pay attention to the /./././. and context clues ^.^ If it's too confusing, let me know and I will try to clear things up.

/./././././.

"I fucking swear, Val, if you let yourself just crawl into a hole and wither away now, I will never forgive you." Dante threw his coat on the floor as he made a crazed rush for the bed. He began pulling on me, trying like all hell to pry me from the tomb I was destined to cling to. It pissed me off so I dug in deeper.

Of course, my stubbornness only served to further piss him off so he redoubled his own efforts. As he knelt, he planted himself firmly at the end of the bed and grabbed my torso, "You don't just lay here and wallow! Get the fuck up! Fight, Val!"

I stood my own ground, pushing my body as firmly as I could into that bed, even though he was far stronger. I just wanted to make my point: that I wasn't fucking going anywhere, and he could piss off. Plus, like fuck if I was going to let him pull me from that bed and see my tear-beaten face. I all but suffocated as I buried my face into the nearest pillow.

He kept pulling on me as he grunted and cursed up a continual storm, which was finally punctuated with a pissy and somewhat forlorn sigh. I felt the weight on the bed shift as he crawled forward a bit. He jabbed my shoulder a few times. Not hard, just with enough force to heighten my aggitation. He was looking to get some sort of reaction out of me, and he wasn't planning on giving up anytime soon. Fuck him.

"You're all pissed off, right? Bitchy at the whole world, because it's cheated you out of everything for so fucking long. It's stolen from you, used you, and fucking laughed at you...And you're fucking scared that, somehow, you aren't strong enough and its gonna do it again." He wasn't loud but his words carried weight and he was hovering just above my ear.

He chuckled a bit, "Well, fuck, you got a right to be pissed, but get the fuck over it… I can say it, because I've lived it too, and if you don't agree and it makes you feel all violent right here," he rested his hand on my back where if I had a fucking heart it would be, "Then get the fuck up and yell at me for it. Fight me, bitch."

My nostrils flared but because my face was buried in that pillow he never saw it. He did, however, probably notice the change in my breathing. For however dumb and uneducated Dante likes to play, it's all a goddamn act. He's a calculating, socially aware, observant bastard-very little gets past him, and he never does anything he doesn't want to...whether the rest of the world knows it or not.

He jabbed my arm again, "What? Did I hit a nerve?" There was a lot of bite to his words, and they were hurting a little more than I would ever care to admit. The logical part of me sternly reminded me that he was hunting for a reaction in order to rouse me from my tomb, but unfortunately for me the venom in my emotions was not having any of that. They were balling up in a pissed-off black vat of hate, and were preparing to boil over.

"Just fuck off, Dante." I muffled into the pillow. I'm sure he smirked at it, because he had at least gotten some form of speech out me.

"Already did that today. Thanks for looking out for little Dante, though." I growled a little because I realized he was winning his little fucking mind game. I was too weak to play anything effectively, and it left me feeling very pissed at myself.

A month ago Dante was just the douche-bag, pretty boy that hung out the club I bar tended at, and now (in all the fucked up plans of the cosmos) our lives were connected….

"A month ago I hated everything about you, everything you stood for...I still probably do; I know you put on a good act...But I'm not sure if I'm ready to spill my guts, cry on your shoulder, and trust you to be something stable or reliable in my life… everything depends on _this"_ I had moved the pillow away from my mouth so I didn't sound like a muzzled dog.

"You're so sweet." He shifted again, and it suddenly bothered me that I couldn't see what he was doing.

"It's one of my best fucking qualities." My voice sounded more like a snarl than anything resembling true speech. Was I really harboring that much anger?

"Fine. You don't want to talk. You don't trust anyone, and you're right you don't know me. Everything you do know about me you've heard second-hand and I haven't really commented on it much. Personally, if I knew the persona you had to deal with at Exit, I would hate me too."

He shifted again huffing that forlorn sigh, "But believe it or not, I actually like you...not just because we've been thrown into Limbo together either or because I think I can get something out of you… You're fucking strong; you're no-nonsense, and for the most part you are logical as fuck, and despite the fact that you really have no reason to look out for a prick like me, you've gone out of your way to watch my back… I can trust you more than I can trust my own brother… So if you're not ready to tell me shit right now, fine. If you're not ready to go face the fucking music today, that's fucking fine too, but I'm not leaving this bed until you do." He plopped down halfway on top of me and I resisted the urge to push him onto the floor.

To be fair, it was his bed. He had given me a place to stay when He realized I wasn't particularly safe anywhere else… If I was honest about it, he had gone out of his way to protect me too.

But it didn't change the fact that he was as annoying as shit, and at that moment he was crushing me with his weight like a fucking fatty…It didn't change that he had just become my last line of defense against my own demise...

"Fine. Let's rot together then." If my eyes were opened I would have rolled them.

"They say we both have a place in hell anyways." He chuckled bitterly.

"Probably more fun than the alternative." I trailed off as a wave of my own crazy started to wash over me. I tried like hell to fight my way free of it, but the waters were just too deep. I began to understand that the first night Dante and I officially met he had been completely accurate about my emotional makeup…

/./././././././.

I had seen him at Exit several times, and I made it my personal mission to never wait on him or (hell) even talk to him. A lot of our girls fawned over him. A lot of girls in general fawned over him. Something about the persona he presented there (that arrogant, cocky bullshit) just made me sick to my core. Man-whores tend to have that effect on me. It painted him ugly to me and made me avoid him like the plague.

Until the night he got fed up with it.

Jessica (our other bartender) had called off that night. So it was just little old me behind the bar on a Tuesday night, and it was just slow enough that I couldn't really pretend to ignore him.

He had been waiting some time by the time I finally walked my happy ass over to him. I had even done a shot prior for good measure. I didn't say a word to him. I just stared him down with a slight glare until he told me what he wanted.

Because fuck him.

The only thing that made me slightly less volatile toward him was that for once he didn't have some form of club-scum, strange hanging off of him.

"Can I get a tall Blue Moon?" I was slightly disappointed that he ordered a beer. I was looking forward to giving him a watered down cocktail.

I turned to fetch him his beverage when he called out, "And 'hi' to you too!"

It pissed me off but he said it to my back so I gave less of fuck. I poured his beer, and was even fair about it.

I brought it back to him and slammed it down in front of him, "6.00" I thought about lying to him about the price because there was no way in hell he was going to tip me, but then again, I didn't give a fuck.

He pulled some crumpled cash from his pocket, "You know, you're the only girl here who won't talk to me."

"Oh, that's because I'm deathly allergic to bullshit." I said it before I could stop myself. Oops.

The smirk he gave kind of caught me by surprise, "Aren't you a judgey bitch."

"Call 'em like I see 'em." I began to wipe down the bar to signal to him that I was done giving him anymore of my time.

"You don't know shit about me." He casually followed the path of meaningless tasks I was using as a tool to end the conversation.

"Yea. Let's keep it that way." I refused to look at him. I'd seen him pull this stunt before. A girl who initially wasn't interested in him would become wooed by his wiles, wit, and persistent nature. Unfortunately for him, I was bitchier, colder, and far less interested in him than any of the women who had come before me. And, oh yea, I had a fucking brain.

"Wow." He chuckled stupidly again, "You seem a little cunty. Did we not take our meds today? Should I buy you a shot as an apology from the world?"

"Look," I finally met his eyes. They were the perfect mixture of a gray/blue slate, giving nothing away. I could almost admire him for that little trick, but he was a prick so it was a moot point.

"I've seen your kind (and more specifically your routine) a million fucking times over. You play the cocky asshole with a shit ton of baggage who secretly has a heart of gold," I continued as threw the rag back into the murky sanitizer water, "Please, don't make me ill."

He froze for a moment, mid sip on his beer, something flashed across his face. Good, I hoped it hurt. He slammed his beer down and began to laugh like a fucking maniac. It just kept going too. He wouldn't stop and it began to grate on me… like nails on a chalkboard. He was laughing at me. He (a lowly piece of shit) was laughing at me.

"What?!" I barked, "What's your fucking issue? I mean besides the fact that you're so douchey you wear a British flag patch on your shoulder when you're clearly not British." Why had I even said that? Oh yea, It had become a pissing a match. I don't know why we had let it escalate to that point but we were both clearly too stubborn to walk away. Ah, petty immaturity.

He paused for the slightest sliver of a second then redoubled his terrible laughter. Fuck him.

"I don't have any fucking issue except I tried to talk to this cute bartender I've had my eye on, but it turns out she's a complete cunt." His laughter was punctured with that statement and his face went stone. I tried my best not to look offended by a prick like him, but my urge to punch him in his fucking face so strong I wasn't sure if I was successful.

He snatched his beer off the bar top, "It's ok though, because I've been watching her and it turns out she's probably only a giant cunt because she's been fucked over a lot, and she's just a scared little bitch who doesn't want to feel another ounce of pain, so she's all fucking pissed off at the world, and puts up a tough front while secretly cowering behind her bitchy persona. Sound about right?"

"Fuck off!" I yelled slamming my fists down on the bar.

He threw a twenty down on the bar and grinned the most shit eating grin I have seen to-date, "Have a nice night."

I don't really think you can win a pissing match, because even when you win all you really get to claim is the title of most immature asshole in the arena… But somehow it felt like Dante had actually won and then some.

As he turned and walked away I yelled, "I don't need your fucking charity!"

With his back still turned to me he just held up his middle finger.

/./././././././.

Yea, fuck you, Dante.

Because somehow that night (that seemed so very far away) he had me pinned down and figured me out despite my walls and defenses, despite the fact that my act fools every other mother fucker out there, despite the fact that I had never even had a fucking conversation with him...and the worst part was he was dead-on about most of it… OK, all of it. He had walked up and stole my secrets and left my privacy completely shattered.

As I laid there next to him, my tired body groaned at me to sleep, but I knew Dante was still awake. He was silent and still; it was a rare state to see him in.

Some piece of logic in my brain pointed out that he was probably too worried about me to sleep; it made me feel a little guilty about my own tiredness. If Dante wasn't going to leave, fine, and if he couldn't sleep I could appreciate that enough not to leave him to his own insomnia.

"Turn the light off." My voice broke through the strange silence in his trailer. He almost seemed surprised by it. My tone was less somber than earlier, even though my insides felt a many shades darker.

I thought he was going to question me, but he didn't. I felt his weight leave the bed so I added, "Grab the Jack."

I had heard the light switch click. He was still shuffling about. I expected him to complain about the order in which I had given him the instructions but again, nothing. All that answered me was the clinking of glass. Good man.

I finally felt safe enough to uncover my face… even though I knew once Dante's eyes adjusted to the dark the small amount of light from the pier and the Ferris-wheel outside would betray me. Somehow in the darkness, that was ok though. I made my brave rise from the tomb.

"I'm not getting out of this bed." I declared. I expected him to make a dirty joke out of that statement, but he didn't. He just took his place beside me on the bed and handed me the Jack. I took a pull and let it warm me; I reveled in the way it burned at all the emotions I had suddenly lost the ability to compartmentalize.

"I don't want to talk about anything, but if you want to help me run from the pain (or whatever the fuck you want to label it) for tonight, I could be ok with that." I passed him the bottle.

I watched his silhouette take it and drink, "It's familiar territory. All you had to do was ask."


	2. Jack at First sight

Notes n stchtuff:

I feel like I should explain that 'strange' is a slang term for slutty women one would pick up in a bar... ok, moving on then ;)

/././././././.

For the rest of that first night, Dante was an obnoxious prick, and every night after that his obnoxious behavior somehow managed to intensify. The asshole would only come to me for his drinks, and despite my best efforts to either pass him off to another bartender or try to wait him out, he remained steadfast in his mission to piss me the fuck off.

I found myself even more irritated when I heard him ask Jess what my name was. Hearing that douchey asshole say my name made me feel like I needed a shower, and a new identity.

There was only one slightly redeeming moment there.

When Jess revealed my name: Valasta.

He let out a cackle, "Fitting." I won't lie; I was a little impressed that he knew the reference there, and that he knew anything about the maiden's war.

Of course, he instantly ruined it by declaring, "Val, pours the best beer and Jack on the rocks my tongue has ever had the pleasure of tasting. I'll wait on her. She'll get to me when she gets to me."

I found his sarcasm nauseating.

Nobody gets to just give me a nickname, a pet name, if I fucking hate their existence, especially if they were using it in a sentence like that. I remember throwing a beer mug at the floor and taking my sweet-ass time to clean it up.

There were many times, thought, where there was just absolutely no room for my stalling tactics, because at the end of the night I had to make money. I couldn't allow even my hatred for Dante to interfere with that. On those nights, when things were fast paced, and so busy I could barely breathe let alone think, I would breeze through all the customers, including Dante.

It fucking pissed him off to no end, because I barely noticed him. On a conscious level, I was there, but I was too busy trying to keep my bar together to really care about much else. I let that priority own my focus, and everything else was neatly compartmentalized.

After a few nights like that, Dante seemed to come up with a new tactic to bring my routine to a screeching halt. When we were busy he stopped approaching me alone and instead would find the strangest of strange to accompany him to the bar top.

And they were both as obnoxious as they could be. I wanted to vomit when I watched him fawning over his flavor of the night; it was always so forced and fake. How could the dumb bitch not see it? And whoever 'she' was ate it up like fucking crack. Disgusting.

It was all gasoline on my fiery hatred and Dante seemed to enjoy the flames and the show.

And of course, Jess was absolutely no help at all. She would babble on and on about how hot Dante was, and how good he was in bed, and how he clearly wanted to demonstrate his skills to me.

She punctuated her commentary on Dante with: "Why don't you guys just fuck and get it over with?"

I stared at her, mouth agape and full of pure hate, as she casually went about washing glassware as if she hadn't just suggested that I let my mortal enemy fornicate with me.

Most women don't understand me, though so I guess I couldn't fault her there. It's not like I had ever gone out my way to ever really let her know anything about me...

Then from somewhere behind me I heard, "Yea, Val, why don't we just fuck and get it over with?" Cocky fucking Dante stood there with an empty glass and cocked brow and I wanted to throw every glass that Jess had just washed at him then take all the shards and put them in his next drink.

"Not even on your best day and my worst." I snarled and retreated from behind the bar with a growl while he laughed that shitty, mocking cackle.

"Fuck you, Dante!" I barked.

Then there were the many nights where I would sit around and wonder why I just hadn't banned him. I practically owned and ran the club. I had the power and authority to rid myself of the prick. I tried to tell myself that I let him hang around because he was a regular and he was good for business… But sometimes I wondered just how true that was. Then I would curse the empty walls of my room.

God damn Dante.

/././././././.

Two hours in and we were already a quarter of the way through our second bottle, and I was drowning. I fought like hell to get to the surface, to breath, but wave after wave of emotional garbage just kept crushing me. You know you're fucked when even Jack betrays you.

I had been living with Dante for a month and it was still strange to see his hands absent of those stupid leather, fingerless gloves. I used to call him Bender because I thought it was some dumb fashion statement. I quickly discovered though that they were merely a tool for him to seamlessly swap between weapons. I stopped calling him Bender after that. I stopped calling him a lot of things after that.

It was still odd to see his hands naked. They pushed some of the hair out of my face and wiped away a tear that I was stubbornly denying the existence of.

"We can run for real if you really want." I would have never defined anything about Dante as gentle up until that moment. I didn't ever fathom that his face could even have that expression.

"I appreciate the sentiment, but we both know shit just likes to follow us." My voice was raspy and it cracked too much for my liking. I had been dead silent for twenty minutes prior to that though. Our drunken adventure had started off with more jovial and playful banter, once we had broken my first layer of sad. It lasted a good long while too. I even got to see his shitty grin and hear his awful shitty laugh. It had been a few days…

Then it was like somewhere inside me a dam just broke and it drove me into silence. I felt guilty as I watched the smirk fade from Dante's lips. The realization that I was losing my own internal battle flashed across his stone eyes.

"I hate that you're right." Dante's bitter chuckle danced in the darkness.

"Dante, I don't want to go back there…" My voice cracked and I almost choked on it, "I'm scared."

"I know," He pulled me into him. Normally, I would have adamantly protested but I was too fucking tired, depressed, and drunk, "I promise you're not going back there. You have my word."

I broke my one of my commandments that night as I began to sob in terror, and I buried my face in Dante's chest too ashamed for him to look at me.

I was essentially crying on his shoulder. Damn my weakness to hell.

The man knew most of my darkest secrets and there I was worried about him seeing me cry. God, I'm fucked up.


	3. Jack on the Rocks

/././././././

I don't know if it was sudden or gradual but once I was aware of the daylight assaulting me through my eyelids, I immediately groaned.

"Make the dark come back." I whined into my pillow, which I quickly discovered was Dante.

"You're so fucking emo." He chuckled still half asleep. I hovered over his face as I waited for his eyelids to pry themselves open. When they finally did Dante seemed surprised by my closeness.

"What?" His tone was a little defensive but there was a hint of concern there. He immediately moved to shield his eyes from the glaring sunlight beyond the trailer.

"Did you know?" It was something I had never really asked since that first night we had been drawn into Limbo together, at least not seriously.

"All the time we spent arguing and picking at each other at Exit, did you know what I was? Is that why…" My brain was still too fuzzy to effectively cooperate with my mouth.

Dante's snicker was still drowsy and maybe a little drunk, "Is that why I talked to you relentlessly; not in a million years. That wasn't something I could exactly spot. Can't say it didn't work out in my favor though."

We had just been drawn to one another… I let that thought roll around in my head for a moment until I felt his hand on my face.

"Hey pay attention," He laughed a little, "Sometimes I worry you spend too much damn time thinking about shit."

He slowly rolled out of bed. When I noted his shirt was MIA, I panicked immediately and found myself looking under the blankets to check my state of undress.

Dante cackled again, "Don't worry I only took my shirt off because some girl cried all over it then passed out. What a drunk bitch."

"Fuck you." I growled with a half smirk, "We drink too much."

He clicked the TV on, "Nah. We didn't drink enough, you're still dressed and the night ended with you in tears."

Bob Barbas was on the news bitching about something. His voice cut through my mind like a hot knife, "Shut that prick up, will you?"

"My thoughts exactly." He cut the TV off and opted for some music instead, an exceptional decision on his part.

"We need a plan." Apparently that morning I was playing the part of Capt. Obvious.

Dante had started on some toast and eggs. It's strange to watch a demon-hunter do mundane tasks after you've watched him decapitate a number of things.

"Already working on that." He brought me a plate of toast. It almost seemed surreal. It would have almost been nice if all my fears weren't making it nearly impossible to eat.

It didn't occur to me that I just been staring at my toast lost in my own thoughts for several minutes, until I touched it and was ice cold.

"We have to work tonight." I declared somberly. My uneasiness draped over my form.

"I know," Dante brought me some eggs then placed himself beside me with his own plate, "And we'll go, and I'll be right there with you. All those warm, pissy, bitchy, hate-ridden feelings you keep bottled up in there," he lightly flicked me in the head, "Are going to come in handy tonight when things get a little ugly."

/./././././.

I must've have been in a good mood that night because I actually decided to treat Dante like a paying, human customer, instead of playing our usual nit-picky games. I didn't greet him warmly or anything like that, but at the very least, I didn't make him wait an obscene amount of time like usual.

"Jack on the rocks and same for the lady." Dante's shitty smirk seemed to be a contagion infecting the rest of form. If he stood there any cockier he would've turned into a giant prick… Oh wait, nevermind.

"What lady?" I set his drink before him. I had already anticipated his order, "What the fuck are you talking about, Dante?"

"Ouch." He took a sip of his drink while still maintaining that shitty smile, "I'm a little hurt you'd forget about our date."

My mouth hung agape. I looked like a moron. I couldn't help it; my mind just could not wrap itself around whatever goddamn nonsense he was talking about: "I'm sorry; what?"

"Yea." He casually pointed to the large black wrought iron clock hanging in the middle of the club, "Last night you offered me a good time and I told you I'd pick you up at nine. Now I don't know where you live so I figure here's as a good a place as any."

"Dante, you are out of your fucking mind crazy." I had finally managed to close my mouth and pull my shit together.

"Tell me something I don't know and pour yourself a drink." He stood there resolute and that stupid smirk would not quit. It complimented the mischief in his eyes. He was a royal fucking pain if I ever met one.

"Dante, I'm working. I don't have time for this." I went to move onto the next customer when Jess cut me off.

She just grinned at me. I almost bitch slapped her but instead I huffed all pissy and moved onto the next patron. The man promptly informed me that Jess had already taken care of him. I heard the same story from every person there after.

I was about to bitch Jess out for it, but she seemed to be eying the DJ distracted. I couldn't figure out why until he stopped the music and started talking: "Ladies and Gentleman, give our lovely ladies behind the bar a round of applause. They are your faithful maidens of mead and debauchery."

The place erupted in whoops, cheers, and clapping and as it died away the DJ chimed in once more, "But tonight we're giving one bartender the night off. She works hard, puts up with all your bullshit, and has the face of an angel. Valasta, you work too hard; the man upstairs has decided tonight you get to enjoy yourself. So get your ass out from behind the bar and come party with your fans, and one in particular."

I wanted to kill everyone and everything.

"Everyone else welcome your guest bartenders for the night…" The DJ went on but in my anger I tuned him out and immediately grabbed Jess.

"Valasta, ow. What the fuck?" Her blond locks fell in her face from the force I exerted grabbing her. There was no way I was letting her run away this time.

"What the fuck did you do?" I snarled.

Jess tried to pull free but I wasn't letting her budge, "Don't blame me. Dante did it. He went to Rick...Paid for your shift and offered Rick extra cash to give you the night off."

I dropped Jess's arm like it was hot coals (which I'm sure she was relieved about) and turned my attention to Dante as I marched toward him.

"What was that you were saying about working?" Fuck him and his grin!

"You bought me?! You fucking bought me?!" I balled my fists in anger-white, hot anger, "You went to my boss and bought me?!"

"Yea, I did." His grin faded and his face went stone, "Now get your ass out from behind the bar before I come and get you."

I was fuming pissed. Just one hit. That's all I wanted, right in his stupid mouth so I never had to see that shitty grin again, but there was a strange air he carried about him that made me think twice about challenging him. As pissed as I was walking out from behind that bar, I knew it was really my only choice. He had won, again.

"Fine, but I'm going to drink you into poverty." I grabbed the drink Jess had made for me off the bar top as I pushed passed him.

"That's what I like to hear."


	4. Jack and Theives

"Val, bring me my clothes." Dante's voice shook the trailer as he called to me from the shower. This was the lull before the impending storm... I tried to pretend like my insides weren't shaking...

"Fine," I sighed, "Don't you ever think about what happens after you get naked?" I scooped up the clothes he had left at the edge of the bed (pushing all my crazy thoughts aside) and opened the bathroom door... where Dante stood in all his glory, shower curtain complete open while he grinned at me like an insane motherfucker.

"Yea. All the time."

I threw his clothes on the floor and slammed the door, "I should've fucking known better."

"What?! Val, c'mon don't be pissed. I'm only fucking around." I could hear him fumbling around in the bathroom before he burst through the door, this time wrapped in a towel, not that it really mattered at that point.

"You're always fucking around, Dante." I rolled my eyes and tried not to look at him, because I was afraid of what would happen if I did and I was equally terrified that he knew that too.

I distracted myself by folding clothes and keeping my back firmly toward him.

"C'mon don't be like that." I heard him take a few more steps toward me so I stood my ground resolute. He plopped down on the bed behind me, "You know I hate it when you're pissed at me."

"Dante, that's like all the time." I shook my head and tried not to laugh as I kept folding.

"You know what I mean…" I could hear the smile in his voice.

Let's be real here. Yea, I was pissed he gave me a show when I didn't ask for it, but it was more that he was always joking around and we would soon be marching toward the front lines...

"Don't let it bother you." I spat and within my next breath that bastard had come up behind me, ripped the shirt I had been folding from my hands, tossed it aside, and flipped me around to face him. All of it done while his other hand kept his towel firmly in place. I could at least appreciate that even if everything else he had done was obnoxiously annoying.

"You know, for a smart girl you can be fucking dense." He was kneeling so he towered over me and try as I might I couldn't get free of his grasp, "Get it through your fucking skull, I'm not giving up, and eventually it will click in your head."

"Whatever. You messed up all the clothes." I rolled my eyes again and did my best to avoid his gaze.

"Sorry. Let me get that." And he did… after ditching his towel. It was only noon and I already needed a drink. Yea, that about summed up my life.

/./././././././././.

Dante hadn't just paid Rick for my shift, he had paid for a booth and bottle (I mean, Jack) service, and he picked the only fucking booth the club had that forced me to sit next to him. I couldn't even banish him to his side of the fucking table.

I sat there all pissy with my my arms crossed and I refused to look at him, "I hope you know this drives the nail into the coffin on my feelings for you."

"So you admit that you feel something toward me." He was too close to my ear and I could feel his lips ever so slightly brush my bottom earlobe.

I pushed him back before I could even stop myself as I snarled, "What are you trying to prove? I'm not just a belt notch or some fucking conquest!"

He slammed the bottle of Jack down on the table, "Well maybe if you would quit with your venom spewing ice queen routine you might actually find out!"

I had seen him pissed off and mad a thousand times over. I had seen Dante violent and volatile for one reason or another, but that moment was the first time I ever saw the anger flood his eyes, and wholly own his entire being. Then it dawned on me… It wasn't hate; it was hurt.

"I'm sorry," I couldn't believe those words had just come out my mouth and that they were meant for Dante. I made myself finish off my Jack before I dared continue, "Look, I'm a whole lot of fucked up and I lack a lot of social skills. I don't like people, and I don't like closeness with people. Maybe you're just chasing after the wrong prize." I finally met his eyes.

They had changed their tone. They were somewhat softer and their playful stare had returned, "Nah. I think I found exactly what I'm looking for."

I rolled my eyes, "Then don't get pissy when a bitch acts like a bitch, ok?"

"Fine. That's fair," He filled my empty drink with smirk, "Only if you don't get pissy when an asshole acts like an asshole because he's fucking tired of your shitty attitude."

"Fine." I snatched my drink and returned to my arms-crossed, pissed-off pose, "Why do you even come here?"

"You aren't too bright, are you?" Dante sprawled himself out lazily in the booth and drank straight from the bottle, "I thought that would be obvious by now."

"Nothing is ever what it seems," I challenged his stare with my own, "Believe nothing you hear and only half of what you see. Living any other way is just ignorance."

That statement made Dante perk up and shift toward me, "Alright, I'll buy that, but you know it would be a lot easier for me to understand you if you would actually talk to me."

"Talking is overrated." I rolled my eyes once again and grabbed the bottle from him.

And the next thing I knew he had me pinned in the corner of the booth, "Val, if you couldn't get rid of me before, what makes you think I'm going to give up now?"

"Seriously, what the fuck do you want?!" I shouted back over the thundering music, "I'm not going to fu-"

My breath hitched as that terrible, ice-cold hand of death and hell itself began to slither its way through the club, covered in carnage and destruction-hopelessness and desolation.

"Oh no," I sounded like a terrified child,"No! No! No!"

"What's wrong? Val?" I had completely forgotten about Dante's existence… and he seemed so worried. Why was he worried?

He was scrambling to get off me, "I'm not going to hurt you, I swear. I would never-"

"Not you!" I exclaimed, "They're coming. One of them found me…"

"Who? Who the fuck are 'they'" Dante's concern was rapidly growing.

"I can't explain it." My heart was racing. I was on the brink of total panic, "I have to get the fuck out of here. I have to leave now." I was saying it more to myself than him… Tears were biting and stinging at my eyes. Was my vision blurry from alcohol or because I was crying like a bitch?

"No one's going to hurt you. Let me help you." Dante tried to steady my fearful form.

He finally caught my eye as I declared, "You don't understand, once they're here you won't see them...or me…"

The music was growing louder like a trumpeting battle cry. I could watch the terrible frenzy over-take the subconscious of every human around me. Everyone fell prey to their darkness, all morality tossed aside. Madness would consume them all soon.

"What are you talking about, Val?" Dante would fall victim too, "Why wouldn't I see them?"

The world around me began to pulse and ripple. The very fabric of reality was being torn in half before my eyes and it was nauseating. I fought like hell to keep the Jack down. I tried to get up and run but I stumbled. I didn't want all these people to get caught in the cross-fire.

"I was so careful!" I screeched as my own panic began to deteriorate the remainder of my sound mind, "They shouldn't be here!"

"Who?!" Dante grabbed me again with a forceful shake. He would be caught in the cross-fire too. Another pile of straw on my funeral pyre.

"You have to get away from me, Dante. They'll kill you to get to me." I tried to get free of him but he was just too fucking strong. That should have raised more questions than it did at the time, but the reality around me was swirling so fast I could barely keep my head together.

The icy hand of fate became a white hot flame of death. The crescendo: a blinding flash of fire, brimstone, and the end of the tiny sliver of peace I had managed to scrape together.


	5. Jack and Bloodshed

NOTES/MY RANT: Finally things pick up :)

/././././././././././././.

"Come on," Dante threw his coat on in a haste, "We're going out."

I had been sleeping in an attempt to pretend I would wake up to something less depressing than the insanity that had come to be known as my life, and Dante decided it would be an excellent idea to ruin that...

"Leave me alone," My whining was pathetic so I made myself a cocoon out of blankets.

"Not a chance," He ripped the covers from me and tossed them across the room. I was unamused and continued to lay there.

So the pillows were his next victims. Dante ripped them violently from the bed.

"No," I groaned as I sat up slamming my fists into the bed as I tried to stage my last stand.

"Yes." He growled, and tore the sheets from the bed and tossed me over his shoulder with one fluid motion. It was completely unfair.

He dumped me in heap on the bathroom floor and slammed the door.

"See the dress hanging on the door?. Wear it." His voice was firm. There was no 'please'. It was an order.

I flailed my arms and legs as I clawed free from the twisted sheets. I was terrified of what article of clothing would be staring back at me.

All my fears were realized when I saw the mesh wonder. It was nearly completely mesh, except of course the places that actually mattered, "Oh hell the fuck no."

"Wear it. I'm taking you out-on a real date." I heard the jingle of his keys, "Unless of course you really want my help getting dressed. You have five minutes, or I'm coming in."

"Why are you doing this?" I whined, "Why?"

"Just give me this, Val," I heard him lean against the door, "Let me give a good time while we still know I can."

I stood slowly and took a few small steps toward that dress. I briefly wondered if it was the remnants of some whore he fucked somewhere along the way...until I saw the tags and felt terrible for my previous thought.

Dante was willing to fight at my side come hell or high-water, and in our scenario the former was far more likely than the latter. He had given up a lot of his former life and old ways for me, and as much as I wanted to push aside all the thoughts and feelings I associated with him in order to protect myself, I found myself unable to deny it any longer: Dante would die for me.

Dante might die for me.

He must have grown impatient because I heard him rustle and sigh, "Val, if you don't know by now I don't know how the fuck else to make it clear, except to say I l-"

My heart was racing and my mouth took over as a panicked reaction, "Don't say it, Dante. Please don't. If you do…"

If he did say it, it meant he was saying it because he believed this was his last chance, and I would be damned if I let that happen.

Silence hung in the air for a long time. It was a weighted anvil that murdered all forms of communication. I finally got my vengeance upon it when I opened the door and declared, "Thank you, Dante, for the dress...for everything."

I thought he would have some snarky, jack-ass thing to say but instead I found myself encased with his vice like embrace, no space between us. I returned the hug, and it felt strangely safe.

"You look too pretty be hanging around a bum like me."

Oh Dante.

"Is that why you decide to only halfway dress me?" I pushed him playfully.

"Nah. That's just cause you're nice to look at," When his fingers interlocked with mine it felt like a spark-an ignition, some much raw emotion and meaning reverberated behind that action. It was nearly as scary as all of the darkness we were currently facing.

And usually, I would just push him aside, but at that moment… I just couldn't…

"Come on, Val, I don't bite." His trademark grin and cocked brow painted his playfulness across his face, and I decided that I didn't hate it so much anymore. In fact, my life would feel pretty empty without it.

/././././././././././././././././.

Somewhere during the inferno of the explosion my self-preservation had taken over for me, encasing both Dante and I in the thick plume of my vast black wings. There was a strange moment where my eyes locked with his as we tumbled our way through the shock-wave. Dante's eyes were as wide with surprise as mine were with fear; He was about to find out more about me than I ever wanted anyone to know.

But something was wrong...He shouldn't have been able to follow me to the place I was being sucked into. They would send me there specifically to keep me from interfering… to keep me from saving anyone.

We both hit the ground with a hard thump. I let out a small whimper as I bounced off his body. The flames had licked their way up the small of my back and stolen the pound of flesh I owed them. I'd heal quick enough, but that didn't make it hurt any less. The bastards had pulled out all the big guns this time.

I pulled myself off Dante, "Why the fuck are you here?! You shouldn't have been able to come here…"

"Said the bitch with the giant fucking black wings." He cocked a brow and brushed himself off.

"I saved your ass." I turned my back to him immediately scanning the carnage and bullshit around me. I had to find a way out, and fast. I didn't have time for any distractions.

"Yea, at the cost of your own," I could feel the moment where Dante's hand hovered just above my charred flesh. He didn't even have to touch it to make it ache and protest. I whipped around and grabbed his hand with a growl.

"Don't touch it."

He chuckled and ripped his hand away, "You're too kind. Too bad it was somewhat of wasted gesture. I'm not exactly human, either."

He manifested a preternatural sword, and I instinctively drew my own: a large Germanic battle ax. The ancient runes carved all along the steel weapon glowed and emanated with my own will power casting an array of red and white hues.

Dante grinned again, "Even you know I'm not here to kill you, and we both need to get the fuck out of here as soon as possible, so let's hold off the fun until later."

He was right. I hated it when he was right. Besides, if he had really wanted to kill me, he could've done it in the moments before.

"Fine," I turned from him weapon ready, "But our friends have arrived early to the party." My eyes moved to a doorway covered in shadows; I knew four DeathKnights awaited me there in the darkness. I could hear their shrill cackle echo eerily within the confines of Limbo.

I was feeling impatient so I decided to bring my brand of fun to them. I let out a pissed off shriek and glided the distance between us within seconds. Carnage was my introduction, and my ax sliced through the bastards with such ease I couldn't help but smile.

"Yea, better not keep them waiting!" Dante's sword beheaded the last one, "Come on, I think I know a way out."

Dante quickly traded his sword for two pistols, "I've got you covered, if you're not afraid to get wet."

"I was born in bloodshed." I growled, my insides longed for the days of the hunt. I had my father to thank for that one...

"Alright, that's what I like to hear." He sounded almost giddy, "Let's get to some stairs then the rest is up to you."

I followed his thought pattern on that.

I didn't answer him, just began my march forward. In that form, I always feel like large cat stalking prey. Sometimes it's almost frightening to realize that it's the closest I often come to happiness. Once that nature takes hold, there is no turning back, no fear, nothing-not even hate. In that form, I am abandoned to the craving I was born with for battle, and picking off those who should fall by its blade.

Maybe I was the one who was giddy. With every swing of my ax, and every spurt of demonic blood, my smile grew wider, and I felt more alive. Every kill built my battle aura, and every worthless creature I struck fear into fell victim to paralysis and ultimately my axe.

Dante could have yammered on the whole time, and I would have never noticed, because as fucked up as it was, that was my happy place. I teetered just between life and death swinging a giant ax at the world I despised, at a world that had cheated me.

But the battlefield, the battlefield was mine.

The stairway was narrow; it tugged at my wings which in turn tugged at the still-healing flesh of my back. Dante grabbed my wrist, "Wait, let me go first. Those wings will make you an easy target if you walk out onto the roof first, and I'm guessing you can't put them away until your back heals."

He was right. I moved aside for him. Dante's cocky attitude didn't seem quite so annoying as I watched him take the lead; he had the confidence of a general and the focus of a sniper. Nothing short of victory belonged to him, and he didn't care who the fuck stood between him and what was his. His warrior-like strut pulled at other innate tendencies given to my kind.

My battle aura did what came natural before I could stop it; It had chosen my victor, and the light that danced about him intensified with a hum. The hues changed from a soft blue to an angry red as he manifested his own ax, "Let's make an exit."

He kicked the door with everything he had. It flew forward with the force of a Mac truck, and plowed through everything that dared be in its path… of course, I suppose they fared a far better fate than those who weren't lucky enough to die by that door.

Dante followed up the the would-be projectile by tearing apart everything that was unfortunate enough to be within his damage radius. He swung the large ax as if weighed no more than a dagger and every swing was a death-blow.

The battle cry imbued to my kind erupted from my mouth along with a playful cackle. I was fine with being the third wave after being satisfied with the sights of the first two. As I hacked through my first harpie of the night, I could feel Dante's energy fortify my own, just as my will-power empowered him: a battle bond.

Our attacks and movements synchronized-our own fortified sphere of destruction.

Once I felt we had enough space (and fun) I shouted, "Now! Cover me!"

I spread my wings high and ominous and grabbed him I dove over the side of the roof and took flight. It had been so long since I had felt that sensation, I couldn't stop the gleeful shriek I let out.

The harpies were relentless; they took chase but Dante picked them out of the air one-by-one with little effort, and the door way out of hell wasn't too far off.

And the hammer of Dante's guns was the crescendo to our orchestrated destruction.


	6. The Naked Jack

NOTES: My in between scenes are a little corny (I know). But, again fan fiction, duh! lol These scenes make more sense as things unfold though. Promise, lovlies.

/./././././././././.

The sun was setting over the pier; if it wasn't so foreboding, I might have found it beautiful. For some strange reason, I found the sound of Dante's combat boots comforting. My chosen victor never hesitated in anything and to have him beside me was a rare glimmer of hope, though it bothered me to internally admit so.

The filth of the city hung heavy in the air, creating a strange smog when it hovered above the ocean below us. Again it could have been almost enchanting if…

Dante had taken me to a quiet dinner, where he was almost kind of sweet, you know in his dick sort of way. I didn't know where exactly we were headed to next, but we definitely had some time to kill before the witching-hour.

"Look," Dante paused mid-step and wrapped an arm around my waist, "I know you'll hate where I'm taking you next….until I pump you full of Jack-"

"I'm not having sex with you-" He put a finger over my lips to hush me.

Dante's devil smirk spread over his lips:, "For fuck's sake, let me finish, Val." His play on words only widened his grin, "I have one more thing I want to give you."

A tiny black thread woven like chain-mail emerged from his pocket. In the center of that piece of jewelry was a proud, blood-red stone. It was then I realized that the stone on his own amulet was significantly smaller.

Dante…

"When I was 17," all his playfulness was chased away by the dark clouds in his eyes, "I ripped open apart my chest just to prove to myself that I had a heart, that I wasn't just some listless fucking piece of shit like every other demon hybrid I had come across...and even when the gore, and the pain was over, and I fucking stared right at it, I still didn't believe it… I still didn't think it was enough."

The hand that held the necklace found my free hand. Dante had never sounded so small, "I spent so many goddamn years counting the days until I either died or became like them… but you, Val…"

"Shut up." I said with a laugh and pushed him playfully,

"Fuck you, Val!" He chuckled back as he pulled me back into him. Dante's firm grasp held me there as he placed the choker on my neck. The metal felt cool and inviting against my skin.

"I was only saving you from being a lame sap." I lightly punched his chest.

"Don't worry, there's still plenty of time for me to be the prick you know and love." One of his hands rested in my hair. As I listened to his heartbeat, I thought about what he'd just shared and shuddered...because I could clearly recall that feeling. Dante had been abandoned and tossed aside. They had tried to suppress him much like they had me...the only advantage was Mundus could never actually find Dante...Mundus still hadn't found Dante...just me...and Dante was risking it all to keep me from Mundus' reach.

"I'm taking you to a club and you're going to dance with me." I could hear the sly grin in Dante's voice.

"Like hell you are!" I tried to break free from him but he pulled me forward effortlessly as I called him every insult I could utter and then some.

"I told you'd hate it." He laughed like maniacal jackass.

Fuck you Dante.

/./././././././././.

Somewhere during our flight Dante had convinced me to take him back to his place...and stay there with him. As much as I hated to admit it, he was right. Clearly, it was open season on my ass, and it was known where to find me.

Once we were sure we hadn't been followed, I dropped us in an alley. Ok, so maybe I threw Dante, just a little bit, but it was nicer than all my other thoughts...or desires.

Dante's bitter cackle reverberated in the dark alley, "Thanks cunt."

I growled at him, "Welcome prick."

He shook himself off as he stood. He was about to make his way out of the alley when he noted my hesitation. My back was still working on mending itself and I couldn't put my wings away quite yet. Oh yea, and I had been shot in the thigh.

I stumbled into an alley wall to keep my balance as the weight of my body pushed against my wound. I didn't scream though. I had learned to keep quiet, and it was in my best interest to do so.

"Fuck." I cursed under my breath. Before I could think twice about it, Dante was shouldering the weight of the entire left side of my body.

"How bad are you hurt?" Why the fuck did he care? If it wasn't for the fact that I would have fallen to the ground, I would have thrown him off me.

"I'll be fine." I snarled through clenched teeth as I tried not to put any pressure on the wound. Fuck my life.

"Just give me a minute." I wanted to sound meaner than I did, but it was pointless. I needed him to support my weight… I needed his help.

"So you mind telling me just what the fuck that was all about?" Dante's face was lightly coated the in shadows, but I imagine he had that stupid fucking smirk on it.

"Nah uh," I retorted, "You first." I began the precise and ghetto procedure of digging the bullet out of my thigh. It speeds up the healing process when there isn't a hot chunk of metal in the way. I heard the familiar gurgle as I pressed my index and middle finger into my leg.

"Fine, but only because you seem a little preoccupied," he shifted in order to give me more light, "I'm just your friendly neighborhood demon slayer: half demon, half angel."

A Nephilim? I froze mid-dig then spat, "Yea, and which half is that?"

"Clearly, you've never been in bed with me." He hoisted an arm under the crook of my knee… He probably realized I was getting dizzy from bending over….and the blood loss, and digging through the gore of my leg.

"Well, I'm sure you're a hot commodity." I winced when I found the bullet...it was buried in there good. I was a little pissy that it had come so close to being a clean shot...and then gave up. Of course, that falls on my own healing factor so I only had myself to blame.

"For some fucked up reason, the ladies seem to love me." Dante only half chuckled; his focus seemed to be more on my digging adventure than the actual conversation.

"No, not women," I clenched my jaw tight as I pushed my fingers in enough to get a good grip on the bullet, "I meant every big bad from here to hell wants your head on a platter." My voice was shaken, airy. The pain was bearable but pain is still pain.

"Something like that." He watched me with a strange fascination, maybe remembering all the times he'd had to dig out his own bullets.

With my fingers buried in my own squishy substance, I took a deep breath and prepared myself to pull the bullet out.

"Of course, the Nephilim would be the asshat I couldn't shake off with my bitchy attitu-" The pitch of my voice heightened; I was about to cry out in pain, when abruptly my body was crushed against the cold bricks of the alley wall. Dante's hand was placed firmly over my mouth.

"Stay quiet and don't be stubborn." His voice had an odd air of dominion, "Drawing any attention to ourselves right now would be absolutely asinine; you know this, right?"

I nodded 'yes', my eyes wide with fear. What the fuck was going on? What was he about to do? I tried to wiggle my way free, but he just pushed his body against mine harder… All while my fucking leg was still hoisted in the goddamn air...When that entire exahnge was all over I was planned to punch him in his stupid fucking face; I was going to punch him and then I was going to punch him again harder, and I was going to tell him to fuck off and leave me the hell alone and-

"Val," Dante shifted his weight getting my attention again, "Pay attention. Jesus Christ, I'm just trying to help…"

My eyes finally remember that I should look at my leg. The bullet glared at me as it was jutting halfway out of the hole I created...and of course it was sideways. It was lodged in there all kinds of jacked the fuck up, no doubt my own fucking fault.

"I'm going to uncover your mouth," Dante began as his hand slowly left my face, "You are going to close your eyes and focus all your energy on keeping your fucking mouth shut."

The logical part of me commanded me to suck up my pride and just let the bastard help me, and I was unable to argue.

So I took a deep breath and closed my eyes.

Dante's fingers caressed the outside of the wound gently. My best guess said that he was trying to figure out the logistics of the bullet, or maybe it was to soothe me before what he was about to do next.

His fingers plunged into the gore with a mission in mind, and they spared nothing in the way. I whimpered and squirmed slightly so Dante used the weight of his body to hold me in place. His retrieval effort made a terrible noise, all the gurgling and squishing and the feel of my insides running down my leg…

And just when I thought I couldn't bare anymore, Dante proclaimed, "Done."

My body fell limp against him and he gently assisted my descent to the ground.

"Some fucking douche bag must've shot me while we were airborne." I wanted nothing more than to sleep for days at that moment.

"I'm sorry." Dante sounded so somber, "I thought I had you covered."

My inner nature spoke for me, "This is war and there are casualties." It was my strange, fucked up way of telling him not to blame himself… I wasn't exactly his number one fan or anything, but he had fought like hell. Whether, I wanted to admit it or not, we had made a good team...and fighting at his side had actually made me happy…

Dante squatted down so he was eye-level, "Aw. Is that your way of telling me you forgive me?" Faux adoration sarcastically painted his tone.

"Not with that attitude," I sleepily rolled my eyes, "Fuck, it's been awhile since I've had to fight. I thought I was in the clear." I was saying it more to myself than Dante, but of course he chimed in.

"It's the first time you actually didn't seem like a royal fuck cunt." He leaned against the wall beside me. How was it that no matter where that prick was he always seemed so damn comfortable?

"Were you watching the same battle? I brought down judgment." I laughed a bit, giddy in my own reminiscing,

It got a chuckle out him, "It was something to see, that's for sure."

My back was finally healed, and about fucking time too. Wings are heavy as fuck and awkward when you aren't using them for their intended purpose.

"Don't look." I commanded, "I don't like it when people watch me shove my wings away."

Dante burst into a robust laughter then paused, "Oh wait, you're serious. Fine."

I imagine it's similar to watching Wolverine put his claws away except mine are a lot bigger and it's somewhat messier… It leaves behind enough feathers to look like I had murdered some large bird of prey. I've never personally watched the sight… I've only listened to the popping, cracking, and twisting my body does as it reshapes… and oddly enough it doesn't really hurt….

Once the deed was done, I came to another frightening realization. putting away my wings had cost me the last of my shirt; it lay in a sad heap on my lap...torn, chard, and tired. It looked like I felt.

"Keep your eyes closed!" I hissed as he started to squint. I immediately threw my arms around myself in a protective embrace.

Dante didn't listen. Dante rarely ever listens…

But he always laughs and never shuts the fuck up...and that moment was no different.

"I always thought I'd get your clothes off, just not like this." Dante's laughter possessed him. All I could whine about in my mind was how being naked was actually not worth uncovering myself to punch the prick.

"Shut the fuck up! Give me your coat!" My snarl was snippy and angry.

"You mean the one with the douchey British flag patch?" He was still laughing, the asshole.

"Yes!" I whined. I didn't mean to but I did. I whined because I was tired and pissy and Dante wouldn't just give me his fucking coat!

He just kept laughing, "You're almost cute when you're pouting."

"Dante!" I was losing my mind. The cold was creeping in and there was no real way for me to express just how naked I really felt. Nudity isn't just nudity… it's like being utterly helpless and vulnerable….

"So about what just happened back there…" The way he said it implied he was insinuating something… I didn't like it…

"What? It's not my fault they showed up! One of those _things_ you often bring home probably opened her whore mouth… that is what they do, right?" My eyes were like daggers at him.

He placed his hand on his chest in mock hurt, "Ouch. Is someone a little jealous?"

"Fuck you, Dante, I'm naked and I still want to hit things…" I met his eyes with fire.

"Yea? We could do something about that?" With that statement he almost got me. I nearly let go of myself and hooked him with my right, but I paused at the last second. Disappointment instantly befell him.

"Look, I know I hang out there a lot…" He ran a hand threw his short, choppy, dark hair, "But I've been keeping a low profile… Quit being so pissy. You're in trouble, and if you don't stop being so stubborn that trouble'll do a whole hell of a lot more than just a bullet to the leg…."

I sighed reluctantly.

"I'll give you my coat if you do…" Dante's teasing nature made me crack a slight smile.

"Fine, but not here. We're in the open. You know this." Story time would most definitely have to wait.

"Right."He whipped his coat off swiftly and draped it over me. As I went to get to my feet, he offered me his hand. I glared at him.

"I will throw you over my shoulder and carry you back to my place if you don't knock that shit off." He seemed dead serious… it was a face I had only seen once before… and it was that night during his march toward the battlefield.

So I took his hand…

"And for the record," he started as he threw my arm over his shoulder, "I haven't taken one of those 'things' home in months...and I swear to whatever the fuck created this hellhole (the devil, some Jesus-thing, what-the-fuck-ever) if you complain about me helping you walk back to my place, I will walk around my trailer butt-ass fucking naked and wave my junk in your face."

Needless to say, I complied.


	7. Jack and the past

/./././././././././

Dante had been fucking with my head all night so I supposed I shouldn't've expected that he would behave any differently at the club he planned on taking me too…

For starters, it wasn't even a club it was a large bar that doubled as a concert venue. My favorite local band (Chaos Theory) was playing there. In all the fucking insanity, I had forgotten, but Dante…

They played this strange hybrid of aggrotech and metal. It as like a Rob Zombie remix except it was darker, heavier, and got you high through your ear drum. Of course, I was biased. The drummer had been one of my regulars at Exit, and the first time their band had played there was one of the best nights I could remember, to-date.

The pit was insanity. Everyone there just committed to that circle of death and left all their bullshit and frustrations in the epicenter of the destruction.

Dante and I were no different. It was something that I knew was a little childish, but I just didn't fucking care.

And Dante with his devil grin, fed me all the Jack I could swallow.

I was perfectly fine with that.

I was having myself a grand, intoxicated time until the lead singer started talking nonsense at the beginning of their second set.

Their vocalist was named Evan and he was best friends with Terry (the drummer). My only hesitation about Evan was he often entertained Dante's ridiculousness, until Terry would talk him down. Neither Terry nor Evan knew of the world in which Dante and I shared so we had to keep them at distance, but all in all they weren't terrible people…

Until that night when Evan opened up his talk-hole and started spewing nonsense.

"I want to thank everyone for coming out tonight, gettin' a little fucked up with us," Evan brushed the long locks out of his eyes, "There's two crazy motherfucks in particular though who I want to personally thank for their presence. They are the two who have made your pit experience a little more intense than usual." Evan let out a bark of a cackle.

"The first is the pretty-boy Dante, ladies you all want to sleep with him and gentlemen all wannabe him."

"Evan, shut the fuck up, his ego is big enough!" I shouted before I could stop myself.

"Think of the devil and she shall appear," Evan let out another bark of laughter, "Valasta, you are our other guest of honor tonight."

I instantly rolled my eyes from within the blackness of the crowd. I know he didn't see it but Dante did, and retaliated appropriately (at least in his own terms).

"I bought her a new dress! Make her come on stage!" Dante's howl was ear-shatteringly loud, all the power and command in his voice increased his volume.

"Sounds like a plan," Evan agreed, "You know her as the toughest bartender at the former Exit (you know before the fire), Valasta!"

Dante shoved me toward the stage, "Go on."

"Way to ruin a nice night!" I hissed at him.

I walked to the stage with the attitude of defiance and hate I so often wore. Evan placed a spare mic in my hands.

"So we've had a bet going" Evan smirked, "Have you slept with Dante yet?"

"Evan, how much do you like your face?" I glared.

"Whoa!" He chuckled, "Sorry! If it's any consolation, I'm pretty sure he's about you for the long haul so good on that one."

"Is that what they taught you in groupies 101?" I pushed him playfully.

"Nah, I've just seen him so I know." Evan eyed me somewhat seriously. I found it rather aggravating.

"Did you call me up on stage to talk about my personal life or does this have a point?" I glared him down, while glancing at Dante to gauge whether or not he had staged this whole thing.

"Ladies and Gentlemen, she is rough, tough, and a whole lot of fuck up but has the voice of an angel. Valasta, will sing a duet with me?" I caught Dante's eye as Evan posed the question. Dante was wearing the devil grin and he did little hide it. The bastard.

I hated being the center of attention, especially in that dress, but...

"I've had enough Jack so to hell with it. Why not?"

/././././././././././././././././././././.

We weren't through the door to his trailer for more than five seconds before he held his hand out in demand for his coat and spat, "So spill."

It was then that I realized that I had nothing to replace the job in which Dante's coat had been assigned, "I can't… I don't have anything else to cover me."

"Your poor planning is not my problem." He smirked as he threw both of his pistols down on his make-shift kitchen table. They made a loud thump.

"Dante!" I screeched exasperated. It had been a long day and I just didn't have the energy for his nonsense.

"Fine." His sigh was playfully dramatic. He stripped his shirt off and tossed it toward me. I had caught it before I could even think about; all of my reflexes just took over.

"You couldn't've given me something clean?" I glared at him.

He crossed his arms, draped in his own confidence, "Do you want me to take it back?"

I clutched the tank tighter and muttered insults under my breath… I was mad that I had to look at him shirtless… even though it seemed like a silly thing to be mad over… it was a nice sight...which pissed me off…

I could see the bathroom from where I had been standing so I escorted myself there.

My leg had healed in our march back to Dante's so by the time we had reached his door I had all but pushed him off me. It was nice to be without a limp.

I closed the door to his bathroom and nearly screamed. I was pissed off about a lot of things. Some irrational part of me tried to blame Dante, but most of me realized just how fucking stupid that was. It wasn't his fault… none of my core issues were.

The true causes of my bitchiness all stemmed from long standing issues, and the realization that the thought I had once had...that the idea that I was finally free from the darkness… was all a delusional lie, nothing short of naive.

"Hey." Dante's voice broke through my thoughts, "Val, you still owe me an explanation."

"Fuck off," I muttered under my breath as I ripped his coat off and tossed it to the ground.

The intro to Dante's next question was the sound of a door swinging wide open, "I'm sorry what?"

I threw my arms around myself and screamed, "Can you just fuck off already?!"

"Sorry, Little Dante seems to have his sights set on you." He shrugged like a jackass, "Yea, I know; I don't get it either."

I growled at him...too mad to even form a string of words together in my head to respond.

I couldn't see Dante's stupid face. I turned my back to him the moment I heard the door open, but the silence that hung in the air made me think that he was studying me. It was the undeniable feeling you get when you know someone's eye are you.

"Huh," his inquisitive tone shattered the quiet,, "Jess said your last name was Sigrun…"

I wanted to be mad at Jess for revealing such things to him, but I realized that I needed to get the fuck over it...given the fact that I didn't even know if she had survived the darkness that had swallowed Exit that night…

"You have a raven tattoo on your right shoulder," Dante continued, "You're a fucking Valkyrie, aren't you?"

"If you want me to tell you anything, you'll fucking let me get the hell dressed!" I had lost it. The frustrations of my life and that night were finally starting to have their way with me.

"Fine. I'll bring the Jack." He slammed the door closed, which pissed me off. I whipped his stupid dego tee over my body (making sure all the important bits were coveredish) and then stormed through the door.

"Pour me a Jack on the rocks!" I declared with a snarl.

"Already done," He slid it across the table and I snatched it up like it was candy.

I downed it in one gulp and demanded, "Another." The slam of my glasses echoed about the trailer.

Dante poured it and slid the glass back, "If you insist…"

"Yes I'm a fucking Valkyrie," I confirmed in between sips, "I can handle myself well enough...things just got a little out of control…"

He laughed with his back to me as he grabbed himself a glass out of the cabinet. I noticed his own strange tattoo between his shoulder blades. I decided not to comment on it though...mostly because it actually looked good.

"Is that what you call it?" Dante's voice broke me free from my own thoughts. With a fresh drink in his hand, he joined me at the table.

"Yes, something like that." I glared him down.

Dante slammed the bottle of Jack down in the middle of the table, "Well that's a load of fucking bullshit… Why is Mundus after you?"

How did he know that? My reaction must have played across my face, because he was eying me and his own face twisted a bit.

Mundus had been in power for almost 9,000 years. If he was after you, you generally didn't live. I briefly recalled the legends of Nephilim. They held the power to kill the demon-king, to kill Satan, passing between three realms with ease. So was Mundus after Dante too? Maybe they had shown up there for him… Maybe it wasn't just me… but my name was the one associated with that place.. my identity was tied there…and I hadn't even heard whispers of Mundus hunting a Nephilim.

"Because he wants an ace, and in his mind I am the best of the best…" Dante studied me carefully as I poured myself another drink, "Who can lose if they hold a Valkyrie of the Victory Rune in their ranks…"

Long repressed memories began to wrap at the edges of my sanity. I shoved them down violently. I had worked so hard to get free, and now…

"Look, I know better than anyone that trusting someone is hard, but, Val," I met Dante's eyes then, "I might be a lot of things to a lot of people but I am no fucking demon-scum, and you can trust me."

It was the first time I had seen and believed that Dante was actually being genuine with me; the honesty in his eyes took me by surprise.

I sighed as I swirled the liquid in my glass around; the way the ice clinked against the sides of the rocks glass was strangely comforting, "Alright, but its a longish story."

"I've got nothing but time Ms. Sigrun." I hated that he knew my real last name. I hated that I ever told Jess my real last name...Maybe that was my problem...

"Mundus had managed to rise to his place of power by capturing my mother (Sigrun, the victory Valkyrie), and in the process he banished her lover, the Erlking. So for almost 9,000 years my father was unable to cross the barrier between the Never realm (where we hail from). He couldn't rescue my mother and he couldn't call the hunt. Until he broke free…"

"You're father is the Erlking? I thought all that was just legend…" He topped my drink off. I instantly gulped it down and made him pour me more. He smirked about that.

"Psh," I rolled my eyes, "Angels and Demons think they're so special, but the truth is they're both just another brand of the supernatural just like the rest of us, and they're not even the oldest. They just fuck like rabbits so there's so damn many of you." I punctuated my statement with an eye-roll, "And, oh yea, you guys suck at keeping a low profile. Always have to be intertwined with human affairs…"

"Hey, I didn't exactly sign up for this gig." Dante tapped his empty glass, "And quit trying to change the subject and don't act like you're surprised I caught on… I've been around you enough to know better…"

Fuck you, Dante.

"So the Erlking broke out of the Never realm and immediately calls the the hunt. Mundus was lucky to live. He used my mother as a bargaining pawn. My father would do anything for her…."

"And then you came along." Dante smirked pouring himself another drink.

"Something like that. Everything was fine until I was seven or eight… I can't recall. Anyways,. Mundus found us. He was too chicken-shit to fight my father so he barred him away again. He killed my mother, and took me as a replacement."

"What does that mean exactly?" I was staring at the floor but I could feel Dante's eyes on me.

"It meant hell." I began softly, "I was made to fight for my life. I was made to turn battles in his favor, and take innocent lives. When I was old enough (if you could call it that), I was expected to fulfill other roles too, and I was a prisoner until I escaped...I left everything behind...Came to this city and bought a new life… Things have been quiet the past ten years"

When I looked over at Dante he was clenching both his fists tightly, "I wondered why 'work' was moving closer and closer to Exit. Now I know. At first, I thought they were onto me...but I always seemed to take them by surprise, like they were never looking for me at all..."

"Ugly, fat bastard," I slammed my fist into the table, "I'm not going back. He's not taking my life away again. I'll fucking die first!"

"All you're doing is giving me more reasons to kill the son of a bitch." He slammed the bottle of Jack down with a grunt.

"Someone should… I know the cycle of power will just continue… I know it's a battle that never ends…"I leaned back in my chair feeling a little more defeated than I would ever care to tell another soul. I guess I had always expected Mundus to find me someday, but I lived in a world where I pretended that day was when I was old and didn't give a shit… or maybe someone would just off him for me.

"Shut up," Dante spat, "If someone worth-while takes Mundus out they'll be able to keep a tight leash on the fucking demon-scum."

"Someone like you?" I cocked a brow as I brought my drink to my lips.

"Yea. Why not?" He shrugged and stole the bottle from the center of the table. He did the honors of topping of our glasses off.

"Don't take this wrong, but you just don't seem the type to care about something like-"

"Justice?" He finished for me. Dante's jaw set in a hard line, "I live the way I live because I expect to die before I ever really get the chance to know anything else. I run around killing scum and sometimes it's a good-paying gig, but I know on the other side there's just more emptiness and pain and one day there won't even be that."

Well, that made me feel like shit, "Dante." I rested my hand on his, "You're fighting all the wrong battles. This is a war. I know war. I know warriors, and you are a true warrior. You're a victor so I've decreed."

He chuckled a bit, "Was that the crazy surge of energy I felt during the fight?"

"Yes," I grunted a sigh, "It pains me to say it, but I'm war-bound to you…"

"You mean like I got your inner Valkyrie all hot and bothered with my battlecry?" Damn that devil smile. He stripped those ridiculous leather, fingerless gloves off.

I glared at him, "I've seen your warrior spirit and then chose you as my victor so fuck off."

He let out a ridiculous laugh as he tipped back in his chair, "I've never felt so high in battle."

"It's the first time I've chosen a victor because they had the essence of a warrior… It's the first time that the choice was essentially mine…." I trailed off recalling my days with Mundus.

Dante raised his glass, "So Val, what do you say? A Nephilim and a bad-ass Valkyrie: A fat, bastard demon-king's worst nightmare."

I raised my own glass, "Let's kill off this bottle before we decide to kill anything else."

"Fine," He clinked his glass into mine, "To being a team that would give demon-scum nightmares."

I just smirked at him, because I couldn't lie… the idea did appeal to absolutely every part of me, and Dante was the warrior legends are made up, and just crazy enough to pull it off.

But the full wrath of Mundus was something not to be taken lightly, and the idea of trusting Dante was something that was still less than tolerable at best.

But we were drinking Jack, had just kicked some major ass, and were well on our way to drunkville, so I would just live in my fantasy and let the whatifs and doubts wait until tomorrow.


	8. Jack and a shot of Reality

/././././././././.

"So what was the point of all that?" Dante and I were walking out of the bar; we'd just about reached the entryway when I'd asked him that question.

"Because I like to hear you sing, and so does everyone with half a fucking brain…" Dante's words were so nonchalant about it… I hadn't realized they had stopped me in my tracks until Dante pulled me forward, "Val, you can't just stand there."

As he pulled me forward he added, "Didn't you ever wonder why I never bothered you in the shower? Because it certainly had nothing to do with respecting your privacy or anything." His devilish cackle punctuated his statement.

I glanced at a near-by clock, "It's 12:32."

"Thanks time and temp." Dante retorted. Bellevue was so still; it was a little strange.

"We could always meet Kat and Vergil early." I suggested suddenly feeling hyper-vigilant.

"Nah, fuck those guys. We still got time. Might as well enjoy it." Dante pulled me into him with a chuckle.

I shook my head with a slight smirk, "Boy, you wouldn't even know what to do."

He shortened the distance between our faces and my recoil was instantaneous, "Maybe, but one of us is too chicken-shit to find out."

"That's what we call wisdom." I corrected him; he had no intention of letting me go.

"No, that's what we call fear… You don't want to let anyone in, ever, even if it means you face a lonely life… You know, that's not even fear; that's just stupidity."

"And you're the King of Smart?" I spat. Thunder rolled off in the distance, and the wind changed directions.

His chuckle was deep and rolled around in the empty night air, "I picked you, didn't I?"

"And that's smart...Clearly I'm a lost cause-" He placed a finger over my lip.

"I know of a better place to chat… Less eyes and ear. You interested?" With a cocked brow and that devil smirk, he knew I couldn't refuse.

I didn't. I just quietly followed along behind him.

/././././././././././././././././././././././././././././././.

I woke up the next morning feeling like hell. I wasn't sure if it was the wounds I had sustained or the massive amounts of Jack I had poured down my throat. I awoke with a start though, either because of a nightmare or because I subconsciously remembered where I was at.

I found myself alone in the bed. I immediately huffed a sigh of relief, but then noted Dante sleeping in a heap of covers on the floor. For the smallest hair of a second, I felt a little guilty, but I soon pushed that aside.

There was no sun out that morning; everything was a gray, lazy, hazy overcast. Good, it wouldn't intensify my headache when I went to leave. Although, the way Dante had all but barred daylight from entering his trailer made the thought of leaving hard...and the red satin sheets were so comfortable then I thought about what was probably on them…

I was still wearing Dante's stupid dego tank top… I couldn't leave that behind for obvious reasons. I briefly toyed with the idea of rinsing Dante's trailer-ness off my body in the shower, but I really didn't want him to wake up-

"So you're awake?" A shirtless Dante stared up at me from the floor where he was king of blanket mountain. His eyes were still sleepy, and his hair was disheveled mess.

"If that's what you'd like to call it, sure, why not." I was hoping I would leave before I had to speak with him again, but if wishes were horses…

"Aw is someone grouchy from a hangover?" He chuckled as he got to his feet, his words drenched in sarcasm, "Well, Sunshine, I know all kinds of cures for that." The devil grin painted his lips before he could even complete the statement.

All I could think was 'don't fucking call me Sunshine' but I kept it to myself.

"No, need I'm a big girl. I have to be getting home." I flipped the covers off of me as I got to my feet with a yawn and a stretch. Dante was less than two inches from my face when I opened my eyes again. I almost fell back onto the bed. He looked rabid.

"Are you fucking serious? After all that shit last night, you're just going to waltz over to your place like nothing happened? Like they won't be looking for you?!" His voice and his glare were angry. Suddenly, his messy onyx hair seemed more like horns than just a hot mess.

"Well-" Dante cut me off with a shove to the bed. It took me by surprise and I instantly tried to throw myself from that little prison, but Dante's hands pinned my shoulders before I could even realize what the fuck was happening.

He hovered over my face with a snarl, "Quit being fucking stupid! You can't go back!"

"Well, what about my stuff?!" I shouted back in all the pissy rage I could muster into words. I knew it was a wasted gesture; it's hard to seem like a threat when someone has you pinned.

"Fuck stuff!" Dante's eyes were wide with amazement at my thought process and attitude.

"I don't have anywhere else to go!" I shouted again, right in his stupid face. I didn't have friends. I didn't know people and I really didn't care too, and at that moment I was reminded that Jessica was probably dead. Even if she wasn't, my ass hanging around her certainly wouldn't help her chances of survival.

Dante's body weight pushed into mine a little rougher than I think he realize. Those stone-gray eyes almost looked blood-red in the dimness of his trailer.

"Yes, you do!" He shouted back. I could see the anger rolling around in his eyes, It was so volatile in there. Then some form of epiphany must have sucker punched him in the face: he was letting irrational anger get the better of him.

He pushed his body from the bed and moved to his kitchen without giving me a second glance, "You can stay here."

"That's absurd!" I spat full of piss and vinegar.

"Why?" Dante had stuck his head in the fridge so I couldn't see his face. His tone was at least somewhat neutral again. That was a good sign, right?

"Because…Because…" I stumbled over my own thoughts desperately trying to find a logical reason that I could tell him to take his offer and shove it up his ass, "Because I barely know you!"

And that was the best I could come up with…

"You know enough about me for us to be war-bound; In your world, that's enough to suffice, right?" I still couldn't see his face. All I could hear was his incessant rifling through various degrees of whatever it was he lined his fridge with. I found myself irritated that I couldn't read his face. What the fuck was he looking for anyways?

"I don't have any clothes!" I spat. It was true but honestly I just wanted to say something (anything) that would make him look at me again.

"Don't see how that's a problem." He finally emerged from the fridge with a gallon of milk. I finally won one...but it didn't feel like winning….

"I need my stuff!" Anger erupted from every pore in my body. I didn't really give a fuck about my things… I didn't really give a fuck about my clothes…. I was just pissed off that someone was telling me 'no', that my freedom was being restricted.

I was pissed because I knew Dante was right… and I wasn't going to be able to go back to the one place I found solace in.

"Damnit, Val!" Dante ripped opened the fridge and shoved the milk on the closet shelf available with a clatter, "Shut the fuck up!" The way he marched toward me would have been foreign to me up until yesterday.

"Come on" Dante's growl was commanding as he ripped his keys from off a hook on the wall and all but heaved his coat at me.

"Wait, why?!" I demanded to know as I grabbed his coat out of the air, "Where are we going?"

"Shopping." He snarled from the doorway with sheer impatience.

"Shopping?!" I was wide-eyed and mystified, "Shopping for what?!" I clung tight to the coat out of my own confusion. I couldn't be sure what was going on and Dante was all pissy… Usually, I rather enjoyed pissing him off….

"I don't know, Val," he huffed throwing a shirt over his form, "Whatever the fuck will make you shut the fuck up and stop spewing your nonsense."

"But-" I was about to be a complete cunt to him, but he cut me off by cornering me with his formidable presence, an arm of either side of me barring my way.

"I told you last night and I'll tell you again. Quit being stubborn," His teeth were clenched, "Yes, I know it fucking blows that you can't have your little fucking way. You can't just run around and do what you want, but it's live or be a dumbass. Guess which I'm not going to let you do?"

I just looked up at him like an angry five-year who just got told I couldn't eat an entire tub of ice cream because it would make me ill. I knew he was right; I just wanted to hate him for it at that particular moment, and eat my fucking ice cream.

"You can try to fight me if you want, but your wings will just destroy the shirt you have on. Either way, I win. So are you done with your little tantrum? Can we move on with our lives now?" He removed the hand he had planted firmly against the wall from beside my head and moved to the door again.

"You want me to go like this?" My voice sounded tiny and squeaky.

He just glared like the devil from the door, "Do you want clothes or not?"

"Coming." I squeaked again as I threw the coat over myself like a cape. I hate feeling naked… I lacked a true shirt and a bra. Fuck my life.


End file.
